


Good Morning

by deathperation



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathperation/pseuds/deathperation
Summary: The sunlight from the window doesn't bother Irene much. She's always liked mornings. Now, with this wonderful woman with her, she thinks she likes them even more.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> smut is heavily implied. a practice on consistency because im terrible at maintaining tenses so why not switch up past and present scenarios every other paragraph right lolz this is a lot rushed, will edit later haha

Irene wakes to a streak of sunlight shining right over her cheek. They forgot to close the curtains last night. In her arms Wendy dozes on, tired yet serene. Beautiful.

It's no secret how much Irene absolutely adores the girl. She's never been shy expressing it even before they started going out. Last night, she made sure to let her know even more, pressing love on skin against skin, basking in the afterglows of whispered reassurance.

The sunlight from the window doesn't bother Irene much. She's always liked mornings. Now, with this wonderful woman with her, she thinks she likes them even more.

Irene watches the quiet rhythm of Wendy's breathing, her chest exposed just so from the thin blanket they somehow managed to pull over themselves with limbs heavy but satisfied.

It's like a moment suspended in time. Irene can't help but trace invisible lines on warm skin, touch feather light. She's here. She's with her. They're together.

Irene smiles at the thought, fingers gliding gently right over the length of Wendy's neck. She watches goosebumps trail down her chest from her touch, memories of hours past at the forefront of her mind.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Her fingers linger, enjoying the smooth curves as she mindlessly traces around. Then there's a hitch in breath. She stills.

"Don't start something you can't finish," came a mumble.

Irene smiles, turns her attention to the sleepy face that smiles back at her sweetly.

"Hi," Irene says, voice soft.

Wendy giggles, eyes not leaving Irene's as she pulls her in. Irene follows wordlessly until they're face to face. Their lips brush once, twice, a soft firm press.

"Good morning to you too," Wendy murmurs.

There was a time when everything she has now was only something she could imagine. For a second, Irene can barely believe this reality.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks. Confirms. Wendy's here. Finally.

"I did," Wendy replies.

It's grounding, relieving. Irene feels like she's done something right. Wendy has always had a way of keeping her secure, even when she doesn't do anything. All she has to do is be there.

Irene extracts her other arm from under Wendy, feels the blood immediately rushing back but doesn't mind the slightly painful tingles one bit. She lays back down right above Wendy's shoulder, smiling when her sleep-warm girlfriend holds her in an embrace.

"Girlfriend," she says out loud, still not used to how the word feels around her tongue but likes it anyway.

"Yeah," Wendy says. She nuzzles her nose on Irene's hair before pressing a kiss there. "Girlfriend."

Three years ago, she had met her as an excitable young professor. Irene then had been visiting the university as a guest to conduct a special lecture on fashion. It feels so long ago now.

"Do you want coffee?" Irene asks, falling into the same rhythm as Wendy's own breathing beneath her.

"Maybe later," Wendy says.

Coffee. When Irene thinks about it, it's actually funny how one mistake got her a name and a number. Her skirt might have gotten stained beyond help but she doesn't regret a single moment of that encounter. Soon she will have that same coffee order memorized by heart, even before she realizes she has.

"What are you thinking of?"

Irene can feel the words rumble on Wendy's chest even before she hears them. She hums, places her hand just below the younger girl's neck to play with the skin there.

"Nothing," she says. Sighs, too.

Wendy chuckles, rubs at Irene's arm gently just because. Irene knows she doesn't mind when she gets like this. Wendy had always understood her on a level she still can't explain.

"I'm thinking of breakfast," Wendy says. Then, her voice lowers a register when she adds, "But only if you're up for it."

Irene hums. It isn't until Wendy's other hand start to wander sensually to her waist, caressing right over to her hips, that she finally understands.

"Pervert," she says, but makes no move to stop her.

"Yes?" she hears Wendy say and she just knows the younger girl is sporting one of her annoyingly smug smirks. Irene pointedly refuses to look. That smirk affects her more than she cares to admit.

"Why are you like this?" she says, laughing.

"Well," she places her hand politely back on Irene's waist, fingers bluntly scratching right above where she knows Irene is sensitive, "I woke up to the most beautiful girl in the world and I get to call her mine."

Three years and Irene still can't stop herself from blushing everytime Wendy says things like this.

"Greasy," she admonishes. She slaps at Wendy's tummy playfully.

Wendy's shoulders shake as she laughs, Irene turning to bury her warm face into them with a whine.

"It's true, though." Wendy pulls her up so she can see her properly. "I'm really, really happy that you're here with me."

Irene gazes into warm brown eyes. Sincerity. She leans up a little to place a lingering kiss right on Wendy's forehead.

"Thank you for having me," she says, lips brushing on skin, "and for being mine, too."

It took them a couple and a half years of friendship and several truth slaps from their friends before they finally admitted to being into each other. Surprisingly, it was Wendy who asked her out. Irene didn't mind the stuttered words and barely coherent rambling that followed. She was too focused on finding out that her feelings weren't one-sided, giddy over the fact that Wendy liked her too.

But even then, their busy schedules kept their dates too few and far in between than they liked. Wendy had been aiming for a promotion and Irene had her own business bumps to tend to.

"We really should get that breakfast, though," Wendy says. Irene laughs and goes back to her embrace, tangling their limbs together as she relaxes.

"I'm too comfortable to get up," she says.

"I'll cook," Wendy tells her. "Or are you jetlagged?"

"Little bit," Irene replies.

Her flight had landed early evening, just enough time to surprise Wendy in her apartment. She has had enough of missed opportunities and time away from each other that she rides off the adrenaline to finally ask her officially.

That was last night.

Last night, Irene's heart pounded harshly inside her chest, bravely pushing through irrational doubts. Last night, Wendy said yes. Last night, they shed all their walls, tearing and building each other over and over until they couldn't anymore.

"Can we have breakfast here?" Irene asks.

"Sure. Breakfast in bed sounds great."

Irene laughs, hand wandering to cup over Wendy's chest with a purpose.

"No, silly." She lifts her head up, mischievous eyes trained on Wendy's darkening pair as she squeezes lightly. "This breakfast," she says.

Wendy surges up to meet her advance, eager and attentive and everything Irene could ever want. Irene responds in full. She isn't one to start what she can't finish, after all.


End file.
